


Self

by Cyath



Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 02:40:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyath/pseuds/Cyath
Summary: Rei contemplates who she is.





	Self

I am myself. The figure that forms me. The one whom the word “me” applies to, the one who thinks this. Me and I are one; indefinable, unseparable. I and me, mine. Myself.

The word is split, twin uneven halves falling to the side, tumbling into the void, the abyss of the unknown. That which is not me. My. Self.

Self and me. That which I can see and that which I cannot see. Which is which. Self is me, which is I. Which is. Which is not.

Ikari-kun.

He exists. He is himself. He sees. He is he, another word. Him.

Ikari-shirei. 

My eyes pause, blink, flicker for a second, and for a moment I cannot see. The mirror which I stare into, which reflects the person that is I, dissappears from behind my closed lids. For one second, I am only I, the thing I cannot see. 

Ritsuko Akagi. Misato Katsuragi. New words, a person who must be called by another name. She. Her.

She, he, I - her, his, mine. Words, concepts. My eyes blink again. Again, the swift darkness. My heart leaps - a physical reaction. To something. To that which does not see. Is not.

Again, the fear. Dark is fear - the incomplete, the unknown. Light brings more, then. Knowledge. I do not know. More words, meaning nothing.

Words cannot convey the feeling of identity, of me. Or I. Or myself. Just words. Why words? There is nothing else - words to define, trying to define, self. Words are not enough. Emotion, then. Fear.

Fear.

Evangelion Unit-00. Evangelion Unit-01.

Warmth. Attunement, synchronization. Colour - blinding, flashing color. Not enough - I...

Feel. I feel. Myself. One hand reaches out, touches glass, cold glass. My face - the hands reaches back, the other way. Or forwards, again. Cold to the touch. Skin. The image of me, the touch, the feelings. Me.

A brief awakening at the edge of consciousness, a ripple in the endless pool of the mind. A something that cannot be named but for what it bears. Fear.

“Rei” I speak, once. I hear my name. The thing that I call myself.

But it is not Rei. Ayanami - the thing Shinji-kun calls me. The pilot of Evangelion Unit-00, another thing, another name. More words. I need more. More than words.

Slowly, I bring my hand to my mouth, gently lick. There is no taste. Taste, then. Smell. No. I am more than the five senses, more. 

More than that, more than myself. More than what I am, the shape, the figure complemented by the three dimensions of space, angular lines and curves tapering to coherent wholes. Fear.

Entry Plug. Synchro-ratios - like words, again, meaningless. Submergence, presence. The presence of another, of self. That which is not me. 

Then why am I afraid?

\---

If you like my writing, check out my homepage at http://www.tomato-of-justice.com


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